“Well, I overheard my uncle and my grandfather talking about the keeper. So one day I followed them to where he was keeping Taraana. I don’t know how I managed to do it, honestly. I was a lot of braver as a kid than I am today.” She makes a face at Taraana. “I freed him, but the next day I heard that he was caught again. I was so mad, but I was determined not to give up on him.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” Paheli says. She squeezes Taraana’s hand.

Tabassum Naaz shrugs. “I didn’t inherit my grandfather’s evil gene, thankfully.” She gets to her feet. “I will take my leave now and wait until it is my turn to move. Ah, just so you know, if you get caught, this conversation never happened. I don’t know you and we have never met.” Tabassum Naaz moves toward the door, then stops and whirls toward Valentina. She whispers something in Valentina’s ear, throws us a smile, and is gone.

“What did she say to you?” Paheli asks as soon as the door closes behind her.

Valentina’s cheeks are scarlet. “She said that if I have an itch, she’ll be happy to scratch it for me.”

“And do you?”

“You should worry more about your itches than mine,” Valentina says primly, and effectively shuts Paheli up.

“What are we going to do about Baarish?” Sevda asks. Her voice is soft but her question is loud.

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Paheli answers, her fingers briefly on her eyelids, which flutter down as if to underline her exhaustion. “We can figure out the logistics when we have a weapon with which to fight him. Currently, we have nothing.” She thinks we don’t see the coldness in her eyes, but with Paheli, we have learned to step softly, cautiously, so we don’t say anything.

Paheli continues. “I know you are all upset and unsettled. I have no quick fixes with which to appease you. But hey, this is not the first time we’ve faced mountains, right? We will bring him down, one way or another. Anyway, let’s change the topic. All this talk about Baarish is giving me an upset stomach.”

“Are you comparing Baarish to expired food?” Taraana asks.

“No. Not expired food. Just something that doesn’t taste good,” Paheli replies.

“Like peanut butter?” he says with a grin.

Paheli narrows her eyes. “This conversation is over.”

Listen.

Sometimes we wish for things and people we never had but other people take for granted. Like:

A mother who worries when you don’t come home at night. A father who is neither a gaping absence nor only present in the marks on our bodies. The luxury of nights not fragmented by nightmares. Bodies that are ours alone.

Sometimes we wish for impossible things like that.

The Fault in the Stars